Chapter Ten
Cade
The Rusty Anchor smells of dust and the sea. An odd combination, to be sure. But Lena and I are an odd combination—not quite enemies, not quite friends.
We’re in limbo, the way my position is with my father. Something has to change for things to move forward or back. But I don’t know what that is or which way to go.
“So, this is the man who ate his eel pie down to the last crumb.” Wade Callahan, the crusty man who owns the Rusty Anchor, seems happy to see me.
He’s wearing a black eye patch and what looks like a sailor’s traditional garb from hundreds of years ago—blue knee breeches, a cotton shirt with long, loose sleeves, and a maroon velvet vest. Instead of boots, he wears Birkenstocks with thick wool socks.
His long hair may be white but his handshake is firm and business-like.
“It’s been a long time since anyone on the tour has made it this far. ”
“It’s an honor just to participate,” I say, chuckling a little. “You’ve got quite a collection of goods here.” As varied as the items in his window.
There was the expected crank phonograph and a spinning wheel for wool, items I’d seen in many an antique store that Emilia had dragged me to when she was alive.
My gaze wanders to dozens of mismatched china plates and tea cups.
Figurines galore. Toy metal cars of all shapes and sizes.
But there were also items specific to Oregon and the seafaring life—a logger’s saw, a ceramic rendition of Bigfoot, a small, carved wooden boat, a framed nautical map with “There be Monsters” labeled over the deepest parts of the sea.
“I’m a collector. From a long line of collectors.” Wade tossed his white locks over his shoulders. “I buy, trade or barter, just as my father and my father before him did.”
“Wade’s shop is popular among designers up and down the coast because he carries the unusual,” Lena explains. “His knick-knacks are used to decorate mansions everywhere.”
“Not to mention, I also sell affordable souvenirs of Mermaid Bay.” Wade shakes out a gray woven blanket with a mermaid on it. “And if you don’t need a blanket, I’ve also got mermaid T-shirts and pelican key chains.”
“Also antique?” I ask, already knowing the answer is no.
“Also unique.” Wade chuckles. He is a man in good spirits. “We should probably get down to business. I’ve got a riddle for you, Cade. Round and round and round I go. When I stop, then you’ll know. What am I?”
An alarm clock would be an excellent answer but I doubt it is the correct one.
I move through the shop, creaking floors documenting my every move.
There’s a milk bottle full of sea glass, their variations in color drawing my eye.
A rack of clothing in the back has a variety of items that can’t help me, although I stop to admire the black tuxedo and a black sequined cocktail dress.
I picture Lena and I wearing them, strolling into one of my favorite restaurants back in San Francisco before heading on to the opera.
Her legs would look like they went on for miles in this dress.
Not that I like opera. But the destination fits the wardrobe and the image makes me smile.
I pass by a display of nautical paraphernalia, what I imagine are the tools a sailor way back when would use to traverse the Pacific Ocean from the Oregon coast to trade in Russia, China, or Japan. On the next shelf, there’s a display of old hiking equipment. Field glasses, a canteen, a compass…
I pick up the compass. I haven’t held one since I was a kid. But I remember being fascinated by the fact that wherever I turned, the compass always pointed north.
Wherever I turned…
“Round and round and round I go.” I turn slowly in a circle. “Where I stop, then I’ll know…which way is north.” I hold up the compass for Wade to see.
He grins.
And behind him, Lena smiles.
Our gazes connect.
And I wish the compass pointed toward her.